The storm before the calm

The days pass in a blur of plasterboarding and sanding, and then I realise that winter has well and truly gone.

The mix of brown and green that has landscaped the fields, woodland and roadsides is, with the exception of the trees that have yet to come into leaf, now truly green.

I’ve seen the first hoopoe, the first swallow, and the resident pigeons that try to colonise the barn have arrived. Noisy blackcaps, incessantly chirpy sparrows and brazen robins surround us, and song thrushes serenade the chickens from their perches in the trees that surround the hen house.

The plants in the roadside verges have appeared and are in the first fits of flower: evening primrose and cowslip, as well as many others for which my botanical skill needs upgrading to identify.

Something that I can identify - a leek that we planted last spring is finally growing to eatable size.

The plants had to withstand a notable local geographic event last week. The Vent d’Autan blew and she blew hard. Whilst it didn’t make us go mad, as the locals may claim, it did denude the recently-blossomed wild plums that line the road up to the village of their petals. It also necessitated some minor spot repairs to the cladding on our hangar.

With the renovations in full swing, we’re in the midst of tiling. Each day I marvel at the amount of dust in my hair, despite wearing a hat, as well as the amout of tile adhesive that attaches itself to my trousers.

The division of labour in action - I prepare and H lays and levels

An assortment of buckets, both flexible and hard plastic have taken up permanent residence outside the second gîte front door. One for tile adhesive, one with clean water and one for washing tools and the mixing attachment for the drill. The temporary workbench sits alongside, with the set square, angle grinder and PPE (ear defenders, goggles and mask) for making the trickier tile cuts. The pencil that should be there with the tape measure, as anyone who has done any DIY-type jobs knows, is constantly going missing.

Inside, amongst spirit levels, mallet, shop vac, laser level, masonry trowels, notched tile trowels and tile separators is the Rubi tile cutter - worth every penny. The detritus of ongoing work litters the floor - scrunched up balls of blue roll used to mop up excess tile adhesive, as well as random tile offcuts that seem to build themselves up in the corner without us noticing,

Hands are dry and mildly calloused; the repetitive action of mixing and trowelling leaving a temporary reminder of work done, alongside the more pleasing permanent motif of the actual tiles themselves.

Whilst we’ve been tiling within, workmen have come and gone without. Most recently to resurface the driveway and and some other areas outside; we now have a defined guest parking area, which is a real improvement. This march to progress necessitated us emptying the hangar of all the accumuluted gubbins - much of which was left by the previous owners; a long overdue task that had to be done at short notice as the workmen had managed to squeeze us in earlier than expected. As well as resurfacing the hangar we also had a small soakaway drain installed; the next step in the outdoor kitchen that we’ll install there as part of our food and events plans - which hopefully will get going this season.

Tiling within will continue for the next week or so in the bathroom, before we then install the shower cabinet and kitchen units. Then it’s mostly finishing work and decorating, and the small matter of constructing a deck outside - we’re going to cross that bridge when we come to it.

I know April will pass in a blur, so we’re steeling ourselves for a big push over the next few weeks to get as much ready as possible and to try to mitigate against the inevitable last minute rush.

All the while spring will develop around us in a headlong sprint, and I’ll forget completely that the cold weather even existed and scoff at the thought of wearing multiple layers in protection against a cold wind.

May those days arrive soon.